Page 81 of Unnatural
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Oh,” Autumn breathed. She paused, giving Sam another worried glance, but he remained staring straight ahead. “So…you think the school shooter was…hired to do that? To…distract from whatever else was in the news?”
“Or was about to be in the news,” Mark said. “Something that would ruin a career or many careers. It typically works. At least to turn the focus away long enough that the person or persons can come up with a lie or take the pressure off for various reasons.”To scrub a database, hide evidence.The list went on. “Is it possible, Sam? That the man who shot those kids that day was used as a false flag operation?” He wouldn’t ask Sam about his own involvement in any program, not yet. He’d let Sam come at this from a safer angle, if he even chose to do that.
Sam’s big shoulders rose as he took in a breath and then fell. He looked at Autumn for several long moments, and whatever decision he was making was obviously based on her. When he looked back at Mark, his expression was stark, stony. “Yes…it’s possible. I didn’t know the why.”
Mark let out a deep, slow exhale of tension. In answering that question, Sam had just answered a few more. Mark could see very well that Sam knew that too. He might be a singularly focused thinker in some ways—they had to be by design. But this man was also very obviously intelligent. However he’d come to the decision, Sam had decided to be honest with him, to accept the help. Likely to offer the woman sitting next to him some protection.Thank God.
Mark let out a deep breath as he went back over Sam’s words. The men and women in the program weren’t told the why of their missions, just the how. They’d been trained not to ask questions.They were training you the way they train suicide bombers,he wanted to tell Sam. With conviction and to believe that their purpose was righteous. And he would tell Sam this when the time was right. But information overload, especially of this magnitude, had to be doled out slowly. Carefully.
He didn’t know what Sam had already realized on his own and what he had not.
“What was the shooter’s real name?” Mark asked. “I believe the man whose identity they used was a patsy. A man with few contacts who worked from home. He likely had an undiagnosed disorder that made him extremely averse to social interaction. That’s been a similarity in these cases too.” The killer in each false flag operation thus far had died at the scene, but their “identity” hadn’t held up. And eventually, after following several related leads, Mark’s task force had located the two groups he’d spoken of. While there hadn’t been any happy endings, he took comfort in the fact that the people he’d rescued were now safe, as was society from whatever crimes they would have been sent to perpetrate.
“Wait, are you telling me the body they took from the crime scene was not the shooter?” Autumn asked, massaging her temple.
“Not necessarily, but I think his identity is false. They likely killed the real Jason Leads. Whether the body in the morgue is the actual shooter’s or was switched out is anyone’s guess. It’s a vast enough network that I’m sure they could pull off something like that. It’s a cartel of sorts. There are copious amounts of money involved and many levels of participation. As far as the members themselves, they are people who believe they’re working for a greater good. There’s little they won’t do.”
Autumn blinked rapidly a few times, then looked at Sam. She opened her mouth as though about to ask a question but then shut it, looking helplessly at Mark.
“If it was the shooter’s body in the morgue, you would know it. He had surgeries like me, but far fewer. His name was Amon,” Sam offered sullenly. “I don’t know his lastname. If we had real ones, we never used them.”
“Who, Sam? Who kept your last name from you? Who trained you?” Mark held his breath as he waited for Sam to give him the name of just one person involved in this evil, just one. Or refuse.
“Dr. Heathrow was in charge of our medical treatment and our training.” An expression of deep despair crossed Sam’s features before he quickly added, “He tried to help us though too. My organs were tumor riddled. My bones were brittle.”
Dr. Heathrow.The same man in charge of Autumn’s medical treatment. The same man Mark had read about online. The one who’d been so interested in human augmentation. Another buzz of dread moved through Mark, his eyes moving from Sam’s peculiar white hair to the scars on his temples.
Mark’s gaze moved to the scar that started at the base of Sam’s throat, wondering how many surgeries he’d had and for what exactly. And though that information would help Mark form a more complete picture, it was still private, so for now, he’d take what Sam offered and no more. “The surgeries…they were experimental then?” he asked.
“Of course, Agent Gallagher. But it was worth the risk,” Sam said.
The statement sounded rehearsed, but Mark let it go. If Sam was lying for the man who’d essentially spearheaded his brainwashing, it wouldn’t be a surprise. And maybe the surgeries were worth the risk. Sam was obviously healthy and strong, even if his coloring was strange and he sported a concerning and unusual number of surgical scars.
Mark could see Sam was becoming slightly agitated with questions about Dr. Heathrow, so they’d come back to thatlater. “Why were you at Deercroft that day?”
“I went to the apartment, the one the program kept in the city. Amon was there. He seemed off, and I caught sight of an address where he was heading. Something wasn’t right, and I…” He shook his head. “I don’t know why. I just did.”
“Do you know the address of the apartment?”
Sam nodded, and he gave it to Mark. Mark texted it to one of his trusted associates in New York City. Surprisingly, the text sent, even though he only had one bar on his phone. He wasn’t expecting much to come from it though. If experience with the way this whole operation worked told him anything, the place would have been cleared out after the man named Amon completed his job, especially one that included such heavy police involvement. Likely, they’d rented another one somewhere else already, but Sam wouldn’t know where that was. Sam wouldn’t be trusted with anything regarding the program ever again.
Mark considered the man, sitting there still and silent. He was obviously struggling, and Mark felt a wave of compassion. In answering Mark’s questions, Sam was going against everything he’d been trained to protect. In essence, Mark was pushing in the wrong direction toward a mental and emotional magnet.He’s strong.Not of body, though that was certainly the case too, but of spirit. He doubted Sam knew it, but Mark did. And Jak would too. “The program can’t be happy with you for involving yourself in another member’s mission. For taking bullets for those who were supposed to increase the casualties.” Innocent children.
“No, but that was already the case. I was kicked out of the program weeks before that.”
“By Dr. Swift?” Mark asked.
Sam’s eyes flew to him, obviously surprised that he knewthe man’s name. His features evened out, and he nodded. “He gave the order to Dr. Heathrow.”
“Why?” Mark asked.
“Because I didn’t follow an order,” Sam said, looking away.
Mark studied him. He was being evasive.That’s okay. We have time. I’ll earn your trust, Sam.
“Do you know where Dr. Swift lives, Sam?” Mark asked, though he mostly knew that Dr. Swift didn’t have permanent dwellings. And the others had already told him that no one knew of his whereabouts for more than an hour at a time and never in advance. It was wiser that he stayed on the move. But unfortunate for Mark and the others attempting to hunt the evil bastard down.
